Hero
by Asuka Sange
Summary: Slash Harry is dealing with posttraumatic stress syndrome after the war. As he suffers from the past, he tries to move on. He struggles with decisions he regrets and with his new feelings. SSHP Onesided HD Character Death.
1. Regret

Hero

Chapter One: Regret

By Evan

I could hardly see; it was if night had descended upon the cloudless midday. My legs were trembling with shock after I cast the final curse he would ever hear, the last words he would hear at all for that matter. Collapsing bonelessly in the ground, I didn't care that Voldemort was gone or that my supporters had rounded up that last of the Death Eaters. I didn't care that all my enemies were dead or captured.

My eyes couldn't blink away the hazy fog that clouded my vision, nor could it remove the image of his fair face from my mind. He fell before my eyes, his body falling into the mud. His normally perfectly kept hair became stained with the cool, damp earth. His pale grey eyes went instantly dull and I bit into my knuckle, realizing what I had really done. His body was a shell; it was empty of a soul, of a heart. He wasn't there anymore.

He was gone.

The world darkened around me as I fell down. The last thing I could remember was his face, the first real person I had ever killed. He was only person I used that dreadful curse upon willingly. Darkness covered my mind and I couldn't think, so I just closed my eyes and let myself get carried away into a deep sleep.

My dreams were strange clips from my life. A flash of the dark insides of cupboard, A snippet of seeing Ron for the first time, his blinding red hair blowing in the slight breeze, Hermione being her usual know-it-all self, And then there was him, an image of a smirking boy holding out his hand.

The first thing I registered when I woke the next day was that I was warm. My eyes fluttered open to see a distorted world. A sharp girlish cry came to my ears and I winced. Immediately, fuzzy shapes bent over me, poking and prodding in an annoying fashion. I tried to move away, not wanting to be touched, but my body wouldn't move. In motionless agony, I tried to get my limbs to function to no avail. I felt paralyzed by some nameless charm Pomfrey most likely used on me.

Glasses were placed roughly on my face, allowing me to finally see exactly who was standing over me. Hermione and Ron both looked ecstatic, and Hermione was crying tears of joy as she was wrapped up in the redhead's arms. Dumbledore was there as well, with that damnable twinkle in his crystal blue eyes. I frowned as I looked over a smiling Lupin, grumpy Snape, and the overly enthusiastic Weasley family.

Hermione and Ron were pushed aside and Madame Pomfrey came bustling over. Following her movements, I listened half-heartedly to her lecture.

"You are very lucky, Mr. Potter. You quite worried us." She smiled as she concluded her lecture and pointed her wand at me, "Finite Incantatem."

My limbs were suddenly free from their bonds, and my legs could move. I wiggled my toes experimentally, testing them out. A small smile grew on my lips, the corner of my mouth lifting. I was distracted from the burden of emotional pain for a few moments, relieved that I could move. A small bit of normalcy went a long way for me.

I pushed myself slowly off the bed, sitting up and looking around me. My friends and teachers, not to mention the many gifts surrounded me and flowers piled up upon other beds in the infirmary sent from admirers and friends. My stomach dropped and a sickly feeling crept up my chest as I looked up. My eyes flickered around the room; purposely dodging the concerned gazed from the people.

"Harry, I am so glad you're okay!" Hermione cried, clasping my hand in her own. I stared for a bit at her slender fingers, the nails painted in some shade of lavender. A golden ring fit with diamonds on her ring finger glinted in the light. I frowned, my eyes falling closed. I winced a bit as images now burned into my memory flashed before my eyes.

I blinked, looking up at her, though not seeing her, my vision haunting my open eyes with startling clarity. I opened my mouth, aware that she was eyeing me in a concerned fashion, preparing to respond. My unused voice only allowed a reply in a hoarse voice.

"I guess." I pulled my hand away, feeling a bit of déjà vu wash over me, making me nauseous. An image came to me of him releasing my hand and giving me a small smirk, his hair glistening in the sunlight above us as he turned about. He walked over to his friends after insulting me as he normally did.

Dumbledore smiled at me gently and patted my hand. I flinched, not liking the thought of people touching me. He noticed and the small twinkle in his eyes disappeared for a few moments. He sighed deeply, clasping his hands below his long beard.

"Shall we let Mr. Potter rest now?" He looked around, taking a few steps towards the door. The group slowly followed him out of the infirmary. I felt like an animal, a strange and rare beast that people view with curious gazes. Their eyes focused on me as if they believed I, the animal, would disappear and would never be seen again. For some reason, I really wished I could disappear.

They left and I was alone in a world of red and yellow blossoms and of colorful and happy cards. The world of clashing, overbearing and bright colors were currently giving me an awful headache. I turned over slowly, my head resting on my hands as I closed my eyes. I tried to think of anything else besides him, but my mind had other ideas. He was cold; his icy fingers forever imprinted on my hand where his own slim hand had held mine in its freezing grip for a few precious moments.

I remembered how annoying he was, always criticizing my every failure, my every achievement. The boy's lips were always curled up a small smirk. He was a coward and he was cruel, but he was pure in his imperfection. And he was beautiful. His cool grey eyes could make you feel as though his gaze could slip through your physical body, as though he could tell what your were thinking. His pointed, aristocratic nose led down to his lips, which were pink and smooth.

I beat him in Quidditch. I refused his hand of friendship during our first year, thinking him a spoiled brat, which he, indeed, was. I mocked his spoiled attempts at causing me trouble and his fear of the Forbidden Forest. I looked down my nose at him, and I was just as cruel as he was to me.

I had killed him.

As I looked back now, it was I, from the very beginning, which took his life. It was not a quick and painless curse, a flash of green light that had really killed him. My own fingers had held his heart and crushed it. My own hands pushed him away from his father's favor; it was my fault he was unpopular. My hands had shattered his soul in a matter of seconds.

Yes, he was snobby and unkind, but he was innocent. Now that I think of it, he was perfect, so much more untainted than I was. He was purely selfish, entirely rude. He grew up as he had been taught; he was born of his father's own desires. He became who he should be; he killed whom he should, and he was cruel to my friends. In his heart, I'm sure he just wanted his father's love, he wanted the love of a callous man who would never return his feelings.

In his search for approval he gave up his own beliefs and ideas in exchange for something he never did end up receiving. I can still remember that battle, I still remember hearing the old man's hideous words.

I had sneaked out in my invisibility cloak as usual, taking my nightly round outside the school. At that time, it was still summer. It wasn't cold at all outside and I went down to go wading in the lake. On my way down, I heard hushed and furious voices. I walked down quietly and to my surprise, Draco Malfoy and his father were the makers of the noise.

i A gloved hand came down hard against his cheek and I covered my mouth in horror as he was verbally and physically, abused by the man whom he loved more than any other person in the world.

"Father, I'm truly sorry. I didn't mean to mess up," he said in a soft, terror-filled voice.

"Hmph. You deserve this punishment, you have failed me!" The cruel slippery voice responded.

The boy slid down to the ground, "Yes, father, punish me. I deserve it." A soft whimper sounded and I turned away, unable to watch. /i 

Tears came into my eyes at the unbidden thoughts that flooded my memory. I opened my eyes, looking around silently. I pulled my knees up to my chest, my body warmed by the thick blankets covering me. That night, I had seen his mark. I had seen the tattoo on his forearm and I knew he had taken the last step. He had almost completely slipped out of my grasp, I couldn't save him anymore and I also knew he wouldn't become a spy like Snape. He was a Death Eater to the end.

It was only a few weeks later, in that last battle, which I realized I could never have persuaded him to turn from his father. No matter how much he might have looked upon me with irreverent awe on me as a child, no matter how much he might have wanted to be free from the life he had forced upon himself, he would never have betrayed his uncaring father.

I turned onto my stomach, burying my face in the pillow as the visions came again. I curled up, a soft whimper escaping my parted lips, as my body soon wracked with silent sobs. I could feel the pain of remembering his last moments pierce my chest. Guilt flooded my mind as, like a movie, those minutes flashed before my eyes.

i He stood before me and pointed his black wand at me, his lips forming a spell. I beat him to it, my voice loud and strong.

"Avada Kedavra!" /i 

I gasped, covering my mouth. I hated this memory, but it hadn't ceased to haunt me.

i His eyes had widened, the silver orbs filled with shock as he was engulfed in a light greener than my eyes. The emotion I saw in his eyes, fear, sorrow, regret and hurt flashed quickly before his body fell, no longer filled with his soul. His beautiful, distorted soul was gone. /i 

My fingers gripped the shabby blue pillow, my knuckles turning an unusual shade of white. I gave a small cry in agony, trying to get the overcast sky and the rain out of my head. The flashbacks of screams and curses flying overhead as I had fought were too realistic. I grabbed my head, gasping at the almost physical pain these thoughts gave me.

It was the ultimate betrayal of my heart; of his heart. Draco Malfoy had ceased to exist, and he would never exist again. I had completely and irrevocably destroyed the essence of him, his soul. He did not go to heaven, nor was his soul received in hell. He was gone, and I had erased him as casually as an eraser running over a chalkboard. Killing him was my worst sin.


	2. Fear

AHR2

I pulled back the covers, sliding my legs over to the side of the bed. I grimaced as I sat up, the blood rushing to my head. It had been a few weeks since my last breakdown, for which I was very thankful. I slipped my feet into a pair of slippers, standing up and stretching a bit, getting the kinks out of my back.

I walked over to the door of the infirmary, opening it and turning to the right, walking up a staircase. There was a balcony above the infirmary that had a bench and a few plants. Pomfrey had allowed me to go there to get some fresh air once or twice a day. I liked sitting there and closing my eyes, allowing the security of a false peace wash over me. I never went outside when it was raining or storming. I hated that sort of weather. It reminded me of my past too much.

Some people are quite upset that I am cooped up in Hogwarts even though classes had resumed. It made me happy though, because I didn't have to deal with people asking me so many questions. It's also strangely funny when these little first years pretend to be sick just so that they might catch a glimpse of me. I didn't mind it here; it's the only home I had ever none.

Sometimes Snape caught me in the hall when I was going to my balcony. He always stiffened slightly, and when I looked into his black eyes, they weren't as empty anymore. He would nod politely and resume his dramatic gate, moving away from me as soon as possible, which was easily done with his long legs. Sometimes I thought I was his 'bad weather'.

It's been exactly three months since the last storm. I was trapped in the infirmary and it was dinner time, so everyone, including Pomfrey was down in the Great Hall. The curtains were green. I hated the color green. The lightning that illuminated the green curtains had reminded me all too much of the curse. I could never say the words again. I wouldn't allow anyone to say it either.

The first few months of my so-called healing were painful. There was not a day that I didn't spend crying. I hated talking, but they gave me Veritaserum and some other kind of potion to make me talk. I couldn't stop my words. Even when I was clawing at my hair and whimpering, when I cried like a child, they wouldn't let me stop talking about everything.

After that, things got a bit easier, they were finished with my therapy. Now, I could pretty much fend after myself. Pomfrey would check on me every once in a while; taking my temperature, looking down my throat, and taking me pulse. Other than that I was free to do what I wanted, inside of the infirmary and on my balcony that is.

I was sitting on my bench on the balcony, and I was looking over the familiar grounds. A breeze flew through my thin shirt and I looked up at the sky. I saw clouds. These were not like normal, fluffy white cloud. These were deep grey. I swallowed, my body immediately tensing. A flash of a pale face and grey eyes passed over my eyes. I panicked, hyperventilating as I raced to the door, pulling the handle to open the door. It stuck; the door was locked. My eyes widened and I flew at the door, pounding frantically at it.

"Someone let me in!" I cried out, my heart racing.

My vision became blurry and I scratched at the wooden door, the rough wood splintering into the soft tender skin under my nails. I hissed at the sharp pain and withdrew from the door. Blood dripped out from underneath my fingernails. I whimpered, huddling under one of the bigger plants, covering my ears with my hands. I squeezed my eyes shut and rocked back and forth; the only thing I was focused on was the bad weather I knew was brewing above my head.

I felt something wet fall against my neck. Rain. I cringed, whipping away at the droplet of water. It was bad enough when I could see bad weather, it was worse when it rained. Then I i knew /i that it was bad weather, there was no way to block it out just by closing my eyes.

The rain soon rushed down, splashing against the castle. I cried out, racing at the door again, my body shoving against it. My clothes were getting soaked, my skin wet with the precipitation. I soon drew into a rage, running at the door and throwing my body against it. I winced, holding my shoulder. I was running at the door again when I heard it,

"What the bloody hell are you doing, Potter!" a sharp, aristocratic voice asked.

My eyes widened and I screamed again, "LEAVE ME ALONE, MALFOY!"

I grimaced, wrapping my arms around my arms, smiling wryly, "Oh wait, I destroyed him. He couldn't be talking to me." I said in an almost singsong voice.

I sank to the ground, my wild, animalistic laughter ringing out over the tinkering of the raindrops on the roof. I covered my face, wet blood from my hands smearing across my forehead, and laughed. The utterly mad laughter turned to sobbing and I cried into my arms as I hadn't cried in months. I didn't hear the door open behind me as I struggled with my inner demons.

Two strong arms came around me and pulled me up, off the floor. I looked up; my face still streaked with tears. It was Snape. I struggled to stand up, not wanting the bitter man to see me at my lowest. He let me go as soon as I stood up and I looked up at him, my eyes were red and puffy and there was blood on my hands and face.

I was soaked to the bone and he sighed deeply, beckoning me to follow him. I swallowed, taking a small step inside, sighing in relief as soon as I was out of the rain. He turned on a dime, walking down the empty hall. I walked after him as fast as I could, my legs weren't as long as his and I was cold and wet. He was soon quite a distance ahead of me. He glanced back seeing how far behind I was and I flushed with embarrassment, ducking my head.

Leading me through the lighted halls down the dank dungeons, he had slowed down quite a bit and for that I was grateful. He stopped at a portrait and said his password in a low tone so that I was unable to catch the words. He held the portrait open and let me in.

I moved over to the couch, which was surprisingly comfortable and sat down. Mainly the fireplace and a few candles lighted the living room dimly. It was actually quite nice. He muttered a few spells and a tray of tea appearing on the coffee table in front of me. Snape hung his robes up and disregarding me, he walked into another room. He came out with a pair of silk black sleeping clothes that were obviously way too big for me and handed them to me.

"The bathroom is the second door down the hall." He motioned for me to go change out of my clothes.

I smiled gratefully and rushed to the bathroom, anxious to get dry. I walked into the bathroom expecting it to be cramped and badly decorated, which was the complete opposite. If I had liked showers he had one of the nicest bathtubs I had ever seen. It was white and sparkling clean.

I slipped my pants and shirt off, shivering a bit, and I stepped back in shock as a towel appeared before me out of nowhere. I dried off quickly, changing into the pajamas. I folded my clothes and walked out of the bathroom, back to the almost cozy living room of Snape's quarters.

The pants almost covered my entire feet, the extra length of fabric dragging against the floor. I sat down on the green plush couch and looked at the fire. Snape had disappeared again. The flickering tongues of the fire entranced my eyes. My vision went out of focus as I stared and the sound of a clearing throat brought me to startled attention.

Snape sat down across from me and looked me over, "Are you better now, Mr. Potter?" He asked in his deep silky voice.

I nodded, and then rubbed my hands over my legs covered by the borrowed pants, grimacing. I had forgotten about the splinters in my hands, the throbbing pain now returning to my nerves.

"What did you do here, Potter?" He asked, walking over and kneeling before me, taking my hands in his own. They were rough and callused against my smooth skin. I flushed, not having been touched in this way since right after the war.

He gently removed the splinters in his concentrated manner. He charmed the dried blood away and put a spell on my hands, making the fresh pain disappear almost instantly. I swallowed and pulled my hands away quickly. He glanced up at me, his coal eyes searching mine until I looked away. He stood up moving over to a bookshelf full of textbooks and random novels. He ran his long fingers over a few books before pulling out a small, though thick book. He frowned in consideration before handing it to me.

"I don't know if this would be of any use, but you can have it anyway." He said simply, handing me the book.

I frowned, looking down at it. On the cover was a name. My eyes widened as I read it. My hands began to shake and I opened up the first few pages, turning the now stiff sheets of paper. My trembling fingers slipped causing the book to fall to the floor.

"Draco Malfoy's journal." I stated in a frozen voice.

I picked up the diary quickly and bowed clumsily in a silent thank you. I practically ran out of the room, opened the portrait and I raced back to the infirmary, for once feeling alive again. I ignored Pomfrey's scolding for being so late and her questions about my new attire. I sat on my bed and carefully turned the first page.

i Dear Diary,

This seems to be a bit pointless, having a journal. I have had too many thoughts running around in my head that would be dangerous if shared with my so-called friends. I really need to express these feelings and this is the only way.

Well, it's been a few years since I graduated from Hogwarts, but it seems like decades have passed. /i 

I trembled, swallowing thickly as I scanned the page, reading at the bottom of the page.

i I have been cursed I guess... I'm in love with him. I have realized that denying it just causes me inner grief. I suppose Harry is beautiful. Well it's no supposition. It's obviously fact. He is beautiful on the inside, reasonably intelligent, caring, and loyal. He is no doubt very handsome, though some might find (as I used to) that his hair is quite messy. I think it's gloriously adorable, if I may use such a word. I would love to see what it would look like after he had been thoroughly shagging, but that is sidetracking.

Of course, I know I will have to face him in battle some time sooner or later. Hopefully later, for that matter. I will not be able to kill me, even if it was ordered of me, but I don't know if would feel the same. I would feel honored to die by his hand. /i 

I closed the journal, his words shocking me to my soul. I closed my eyes tightly, shaking. i He...loved me. /i I turned over on my side, clutching my written salvation to my chest, salty tears falling down my cheeks silently. My killing him honored him. I swallowed, rummaging through the pages, frowning. Almost all the entries were about the same kind of stuff, but the last entry. It was two days, and it was almost like a will. i It's as if he knew he would die. /i I thought, frowning and closing the book. That night was my first peaceful night of sleep in over a year.


	3. Quiet

Hero

Chapter Three: Quiet

I walked down the hall silently, almost all the students had gone home for the holidays and I could wander freely about the castle. Dumbledore said that I could leave the school anytime I liked now, but I liked it here. I let my fingers trail against the rough, cool surface of the stone walls, looking around the empty halls at portraits and glancing out windows.

I turned down a long dark hallway that I knew led to the dungeons. I kept walking, liking the dark, damp stone beneath my bare feet. I turned a corner only to spot Snape walking in my direction. I felt nervous for some reason that I couldn't understand. Taking a few steps back and setting out at a faster pace, I turned the corner quickly and walking towards Snape. He looked at me, his dark eyes narrowing sharply, his sallow skin not looking so yellow in the light.

I frowned too and walked over to him, clearing my throat, trying to think of something clever or witty to say. Of course, my lips and tongue didn't cooperate, and the words came tumbling out of my mouth clumsily.

"Uh... er, Pro-Snape. Thank you, um. Yeah, thank you for the book, you know." I flushed, iHow could I possibly have sounded stupider/i

He raised a thin dark eyebrow at me and nodded slightly, his lips coming up into a smirk, "How eloquent. I don't need your thanks." He said dryly, before walking off.

I remembered why he got on my nerves. I could feel anger boiling up in me and I grabbed his sleeve,

"Snape! I was kind enough to come down here and you treat me like dirt! What have I ever done to you!" I complained.

"Mister Potter," He said lowly, his rich voice sending shivers down my spine, "If you wish to whine about your misfortune in life, please go see McGonagall.

I stood there, my mouth hanging open, my mind going blank for a moment at his audacity. One of his slender fingers came out and shut my mouth. I stepped back, shocked and my heart began to beat so loud I wondered that he didn't hear it. He turned with a wave of his black robes and walked off quickly, his shoes making harsh clicking noises along the stone floor.

I sank down to the floor, sitting in the middle of the hall, rubbing the spot on my chin he had touched. That simple touch had felt so intimate. I swallowed, shaking my head slowly and moved to the side on the hall, leaning against the wall and closing my eyes, letting my weariness take me over.

A smooth voice was speaking to me sharply. I was thrown from a dream into reality, my eyes fluttering open quickly. I looked over; Snape was shaking me. I blinked a little and sat up.

"Dammit, Potter, don't go sleeping in hallways!" He mumbled something that sounded like, "You sleep like the dead."

I smiled a little, still a bit woozy and looked up at him, "Worried, Snape?" I asked just to piss him off.

The older man looked at me sharply, his raven eyes narrowing, "Whatever would give you that clearly unfounded assumption?"

I smiled to him serenly, and the corner of his mouth twitched as he glared at me. He pushed his arms up under my shoulders and heaved me up with ease. I looked up at him and nodded in a silent 'Thank you'. He frowned deeply, his brow furrowing.

"What are you still doing here, Potter, go away!" He ordered with a wave of his hand.

"No. Now, why don't you invite me in?" I asked in a sugary sweet tone that was sure to grate on his nerves.

He almost winced and sneered at me, "Will it shut you up?"

I smiled and proceeded to take his arm in mine. He flinched and looked down at me, raising an eyebrow. His body had stiffened and I could tell he was nervous. I smirked to myself. iPay back for earlier/i. He led me silently, not pulling away, but certainly not moving closer or getting more comfortable. We reached the portrait of Salazar that covered his door and I dropped his arm.

I heard a deep sigh leave his thin lips, and it sounded like relief. I stiffled a chuckle as I walked inside, sitting down on the very comfortable couch and laying down, putting my feet up on the arm of the couch. He twitched and called a house elf.

"I is here, Master Snape." A small shrill voice called.

"Some tea, Whilly." He ordered and the house elf smiled, snapping its knobby fingers and a tray of tea appeared on the coffee table.

"How do you take your tea, Potter?" Snape asked impatiently as I stared at the wall. I snapped out of the trance and looked at him.

"Oh, cream and two lumps of sugar." I replied absently.

I watched his long, slender fingers and graceful hands pour the tea and pour a bit of cream into the tea. He reached for a silver spoon and put in two lumps with an elegance I hadn't associated with tea before. After stirring the mixture, the older male handed the cup of tea to me. I brought the warm teacup to my lips, letting a small amount of the steaming liquid to reach my lips. The tea was perfect, it was sweet and just the right temperature. Moaning softly, I took another sip, closing my eyes and leaning back, fully enjoying the drink. I opened my eyes to find Snape staring at me with an expression of mixture horror and fascination. Blinking, I looked down at my tea and then back at the Potion Master.

"The tea." I stated.

He frowned, looking at me strangely, most likely wondering what I was talking about.

"It's really good." I added, and he nodded slowly, looking over at the fire silently, not responding. While he was distracted, I took the chance to study him. He was still in his robes, though the fabric showed off his slim hips and broad chest. I looked up at his face silently, although it was aesthetically beautiful, per se, he had a certain character to his feature. I looked at his hair and noticed it wasn't greasy, just shiny, the greasy look happened because of the bad lighting of the castle. I glanced to his eyes which were startled devoid of anything but black. His eye lashes were long, and when he blinked, they lay curling gently up from his cheeks. I flushed as he looked at me and I quickly looked away.

I could tell he was looking at me, his gaze having some unknown quality to it that you just couldn't ignore. I blinked, looking at the fire silently, just as he had done. My glasses slipped down my nose and I pushed them back up quickly, annoyed with them.

"You know you can fix that." He said quietly.

"What?" I asked, looking at him.

"You can fix your eyesight with spell, you don't need glasses." I blinked and frowned.

"You can do that?" I asked, never having heard of any spells like that before.

He nodded and set down his empty cup of tea, refilling it silently for a moment and then leaning back in the armchair. "Not me, I hate such silly charms, but there is a place in Hogsmeade that has a good reputation, I have heard."

"Well.. Dumbledore said I couldn't go there without someone." I sighed, disappointed, as most teachers were gone or busy.

He sighed deeply, as if in annoyance, "I can take you, Potter."

My eyes widened and I looked at him in amazement, "Really!" I set down my tea and stood up, looking over at the door, "I'm going to borrow some shoes." He looked at me incredulously, but didn't say anything.

"Okay, lets go ahead and floo there, Potter." He said, pulling a warm winter cloak off a hook and handing it too me, "It will be cold."

"Thank you." I replied softly, blushing for an unknown reason. I seemed to do that a lot around him.

I put the cloak on, immediately smelling ihim/i. It was a mixture of spice and musk. I took in a deep breath, memorizing the scent as I walked over to the fireplace. He threw some floo powder into the fire place and walked inside the fireplace, and I followed suit. Our bodies were close together, my hip pressing against his hand.

"Hogsmeade Optical Illusions." He stated clearly and with a cloud of green smoke we landed in the eye shop, coughing loudly. Snape brushed ash off his own shoulders before turning to me and cleaning me off as well. It was the second gesture I found intimate. We were soon greeted by a pretty young girl.

"Welcome to Hogsmeade Optical Illusions. How may I help you?" She asked in a polite voice, smiling at us.

"Um.. I was wondering if I could get my vision fixed." I replied.

She nodded, "May I see your glasses to figure out your prescription?" She asked.

I nodded, handing over my glasses to her. She performed a few spell on them and smiled, handing them back to me and I held them in my hand.

"Come right this way." She glanced at Snape, "You're husband may come too if he likes."

I turned bright pink, "Wait.. he isn't my husband." I looked at Snape would was looking a bit pale.

"Yes, indeed, I would never wish to be yoked to that brat." He said fiercly. I frowned, taken a back a little and I looked away, swallowing past a growing lump in my throat.

"My mistake." She said, and I followed her into a back room. Snape stayed in the lobby.

She sat me down and washed her hands, she leaned over me, pulling on my upper and lower lids, pointing a wand at my eye.

"Occuli Tempous Reparo." She stated clearly. "Now close that eye." I did so.

She repeated the same process with my other eye and I closed it.

"Open your eyes, sir." I did and blinked a few times, the world suddenly very clear. I chuckled excitedly, looking at her.

"It worked!" I cried happily. She nodded, smiling.

"You will have to come every six months for the first two years to make it fully permanent. So if you wish to go back to glasses, you can do so." She led me back out to the lobby, wear I ran over to Snape, smiling brightly.

"Look, Snape, I can see."

He glanced at me and looked me over a bit, nodding, "That is to be expected." He said dryly.

I paid the woman and stepped back in the floo, but Snape took my forearm and drug me outside.

"We aren't going back." He led me to Madame Rosmerta's and he hung up his cloak, motioning for me to turn around and he took my cloak. We sat down in a booth and I suddenly felt like this meal was a first date, it had all the tension and nervousness of the only other date I had experienced before; this however, was different. I felt the need to prove myself as I hadn't had with Cho, nor had I felt this nervous with her. The was something happening between us and I looked around, trying to pretend this was a normal every day occurance. Somehow, I felt as though our relationship was changing and I didn't mind it at all.

My past didn't haunt me when I was with him and for that I was very grateful. As we ate slowly, the quiet was peaceful enough, and I didn't mind his presence. I soon grew to like him around. He was quiet, and moody, and grumpy half the time, but somehow, he soothed me. I felt peaceful around him, which was a welcome relief from my stormy past. I was quite happy just to sit there and let him insult me all afternoon, if just to have the contentment and of listening to his voice.

And so passed winter break, the winter soon melted into spring, the days blurred. I felt as though time was speeding up the older I got. And I didn't want it to. I was dreading the end of the school, as Dumbledore had informed me that I would have to find another place to stay over the summer holidays. This meant I would no longer be able to see Snape. Now, normally an escape from the snarky old man would be welcomed, but... I had grown used to him.

I waited for that horrible day patiently, fearing it. Snape and I had a ritual now, we would drink tea every day at four o'clock in the afternoon for around an hour and we would talk sometimes, or just stay quiet, the silence between us was never uncomfortable. I would miss that time dearly, and so I began to stay later, the time turning into two hours, maybe three. I thought of him as a dear friend now, and I knew he felt the same. He never said anything, but his actions were enough for me. I could read him easily now that we had spent so much time together. Though, I did wonder if he would miss me as much as I would miss him. 


	4. Summer

Hero

Chapter Four: Summer

I set down my bags and looked around the castle silently. Even though I had no where to go, I had to leave Hogwarts. I walked over to the train, sighing deeply. Hopefully, I would be able to find a house or a flat pretty quickly. Hotels these days cost quite a bit for long term stays.

I stood at the edge of the platform, watching the train roll towards me. I lifted my bags and reached down to grab Hedwig's cage. Standing there I watched the train come to a stop with a loud peircing signal, steam blowing heavily out of the engine. A hand lay on my shoulder, startling me so that I jumped and nearly lost my baggage. I turned around to face a slightly flustered Snape. Without a word he took my bags and walked away. I growled lowly and walked after him.

"Just what the hell do you think you are doing?" I asked cooly, trying to snatch the bag back, glaring up at him.

"You are coming to stay with me." He stated shortly.

My mouth dropped open and I looked at him, "Wh-What! Have you... have you lost you're mind?"

"Maybe, but I still have the ability of speach, unlike some boys." He glanced over at Harry, smirking.

Harry glowered at the man, sticking out his tongue at him, "I'm no boy!"

"How juvenile." We walked over to a waiting carriage.

He placed my bags down, and Hedwig's cage, letting the attendents take the luggage. An attendent held open the door, letting Snape in and then I stepped up the high and steep step, tripping, barely able to keep steady on my feet. I sat down, flustered and tried to ignore Snape's sniggers. Looking out the window, the carriage started up quickly. The horses pace grew faster, no doubt faster than a car by the flying scenery. It moved too fast to look at without feeling dizzy and nausous.

I glared at him silently from across the coach. He caught my gaze and even though I felt myself heating up, I continued our staring match. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, looking at me quizzically for a moment.

"Potter, explain to me the point of this? If you wish to boost your ego, challenging me is not the way to do it." He said, smirking at me.

"Shut up, you... you, um... Just shut up!" I scowled deeply, completely flustered.

He chuckled. The old bastard actually chuckled! Fuming, I let my hands curl up into fists, glaring at him feircly, my emerald eyes sparkling. He only proceeded to laugh more at my expense. I went to stand up, and the carriage suddenly gave a sharp stop, sending me flying at Snape.

I closed my eyes, waiting to hit something hard, when I was caught by two strong arms. I blinked, feeling the warmth from his chest underneath my cheek. I felt my face heat up, and I knew I was blushing. He wrapped his arms around me and my heart began to pound.

"Clumsy." He whispered in a serious voice, his rich bass voice melting over me.

He let me go quickly and I brushed myself off, keeping my eyes averted, unable to look at him. Letting out a shaky breath, I straightened by robe as the door opened, and Snape walked out. I stood up, bending over so I wouldn't hit the ceiling, and I exited the carriage.

A house elf came over and took my bad, disappearing with them. I looked up at the mansion. My eyes widened. It was a medium sized manor, deep grey stone with ivy and climbing roses drapped over the side of the house. There was a gate around the house, made of twisted black iron. A stone path led to the front door, a small garden occupying most of the front yard. Snape walked before me, opening the door and holding it open for me. I stepped inside, looking around the opening room in awe.

There was soft forest green carpeting, and a beautiful stone hearth that had another plush green couch, and a black leather loveseat. I gapped at the beautiful artwork on the wall, unaware that Snape had closed the door and was standing behind me, watching me silently. The sun through the window lighted the room nicely, the warm sunlight filling the entire room. I looked back at Snape and smiled brightly.

"This is wonderful." I praised, taking another look around, "Absolutely amazing!"

"Hmm. Thank you." He murmured and then stood up straight, "Follow me, Potter."

He led me up a staircase located opposite of the fireplace in the room. I followed him quietly, still in awe of the beautiful manor. We reached the top of the stairs quickly and led me to the second door on the right, opening the door and walking inside ahead of me.

I looked around the bedroom, my jaw dropping. There were silky white curtains on the windows, which were now pulled back, letting the sun and a view of a moor into view.The bed itself had thick satin comforters and soft plush pillow, a thin curtain surrounded the canopy bed. I pushed it aside and lay on the bed. It felt like laying on a cloud, I had never felt such a comfortable bed before.

"It's perfect, Snape, absolutely bloody perfect." I murmured, immediately loving this room.

"Severus." he said, leaning against a dark green wall with his arms crossed.

"What?" I asked, sitting up and looking at him, confused by what he meant.

"Call me Severus." He answered simply.

"Fine, but you have to call me Harry." I replied, looking at him and grinning.

He shrugged, nodding, "Fine."

I smiled up at him, and he grunted, pushing himself off the wall, "Come all, let's continue the tour."

I nodded, and soon learned where all the rooms were in the manor. I liked my bedroom, the study and the gardens in the back the best. These were the three most inviting rooms. Snape's bedroom was dark, his sheets were made of black silk. He didn't let any sunlight into his room, and it seemed his spent most of his time in that room and his lab downstairs. I sat down on my bed; it was mid-afternoon and a wave of sleepiness came over me. I lay down on my bed and got under the covers, pulling them over my body. I curled up, closing my eyes and yawning softly, stretching a bit.

I buried my face against the soft pillow and closed my eyes when I heard my door open.

"Har-." The voice stopped. The door opened slowly and soft footsteps came over to my bed. A cool hand rested on my forehead and my pulse jumped at the touch as I pretended to be asleep.

"Have sweet dreams." He murmured as he brushed the hair out of my face.

His footsteps retreated and the door closed quietly behind him. I smiled brightly, soon falling into a weary sleep.

I was standing before Snape and it was stormy out, the clouds releasing torrents of rain. I lifted my wand, pointing it at Snape and I heard my only voice say that dreaded curse. I screamed in my dream, whimpering, now terrified. I dropped my wand running over to Severus and holding him tightly to my chest, sobbing against his limp body. I heard his voice, call my name.

"Harry!" he cried, shaking me roughly.

I opened my eyes, blinking furiously, and looking up at a worried Snape who quickly tried the fact that he was concerned. He looked down at me, frowning.

"You had a nightmare." He mumbled.

I reached up to my cheek, feeling tears that were still falling down my skin. I stood up shakily and walked over to my window, looking out of it at the sunshine. I took a deep breath. iI will be alright/i I swallowed, taking another calming breath. iSeverus is okay./i

"Harry..?" His voice called from behind me. I turned, my hands behind my back and I looked at the floor, hiding my face.

"I dreamed about the war. About the curse. I killed you." I trembled, the words sounding cold and harsh in my ears. I sank to the ground, crying at my own patheticness and the whole fact that my dream had felt so realistic. Sighing, he walked over to me, sitting before me and reaching over putting his hand out to take mine. I sniffed a little, holding my hand out to his. He took my hand in his own. My hand looked so small and slim compared to his. He pulled my hand up against his chest. My eyes flew open and I looked up at him, blushing bright pink.

"S-Severus." I whispered.

"See, Harry, I'm alive. You haven't killed me." He stated calmly.

I took in a sharp breath, looking up at him in surprise. I sagged in relief, moving towards him and leaning against him, letting him wrap his arms around me and pull me flush against his chest. Curling up a little, I buried my face against his collar bone, taking a deep breath, smelling him as I inhaled. Smiling a little I raised a hand, placing it against his chest lightly, closing my eyes. He looked down at me and tilted his head, resting it lightly on my head. I trembled, never having been held in this way before.

"Harry.." he whispered into my ear. "We should go eat."

I looked up at him and blinked, before nodding slowly. He seemed to notice how close our faces were. His eyes widened a little and he stood quickly, reaching a hand out for me to take. I placed my hand in his, and I was pulled up.

He led me to the large dining room. Two places were set, his at the head of the table and mine right next to his on his left side. The simple, yet delicious meal was still steaming. I walked to my chair, only to have it pulled out for me by Severus. I smiled shyly, sitting down and letting him push my chair in. I dug into the meal, moaning at the wonderful taste. A bit of sauce dripped out of my mouth and I licked it up, smiling happily as I reached for some wine. I glanced over, feeling Snape's eyes on me, and I caught his gaze. His eyes narrowed and he looked back down at his meal. The dinner passed silently, hardly a word spoken.

I pushed back out of my chair and stood up, setting down my napkin, "I'm tired, I'm going to bed."

"Okay. Goodnight." He said softly, taking a sip of wine.

I nodded, walking out of the room and up the stairs to my room. I took a shower and put on some green silk pjs, laying down in bed. I crawled under the covers again and closed my eyes, sleep immediately coming over me. I had no nightmares.

When I woke, the morning sun was pouring into my room. I smiled and lay in bed lazily, looking up at the ceiling. I yawned softly, curling up and closing my eyes again. The door opened and a small house elf jumped on my bed, shaking me.

"Master wishes you to join him for breakfast in the parlor." The squeaking elf Harry recognized as Whilly said.

I got up, stretching, "Tell him I'll be right there."The house elf nodded, leaving quickly. I went over to the wooden wardrobe, opening the door and fishing out some clothes. I got dressed slowly, smiling to myself at the start of the new day. This is the day that I would make my move. Severus wouldn't even know what hit him. 


End file.
